


chasing rollercoasters

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: Buzzfeed: Worth It (Web Series)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blowjobs, Coming In Pants, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Extremely Dubious Consent, First Kiss, First Time, Getting Together, Implied Rimming, M/M, Manipulative Relationship, Semi Public Sex, Sexual Coercion, implied handjobs, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 12:03:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18446168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: I want to complicate you; don't let me do this to myselfAndrew wants and he wants and hewants.(Andrew takes and he takes and hetakes.)





	chasing rollercoasters

**Author's Note:**

> okay so did you read the tags?? are you sure?? are you SURE?? because this is not a happy-go-lucky fic. it's rather dark, and Andrew is not _really_ a nice guy in this; he thinks he is, he's wrong. patently. I just wanted to write something dark and only showcase one character's point of view
> 
> this was written to the tune of [far too young to die by p!atd](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0f71XfN_DLI); literally, any moment I was writing this I just had that song on repeat. for hours. I hope at least someone else appreciates how I tried to tie the fic to the song lyrics. i've had this idea kicking around for nearly a year and I'm really glad to have gotten it down.
> 
> big thanks to hannah for beta'ing!! 
> 
> enjoy!

Steven is…special. Not that Andrew hasn’t felt this way about other people, because he has. But something about Steven is different. He breaks through Andrew’s walls effortlessly, tears him down to build him back up, bringing them closer in the process. Steven is too much, in a way where Andrew only craves more. Better than the best snack, or the strongest drug. Steven is in a league of his own, in Andrew’s mind. And it’s torture, sometimes.

Andrew wants _so much_. He wants more than he can have—which is nothing new but makes it no easier to deal with. Especially not when the thing he wants most is Steven. _All_ of Steven, every inch of him, head to toe, inside and out. He doesn’t want anyone else to get remotely close to Steven. God forbid someone tries to touch Steven, or hug him, or ruffle his perfectly crafted hair. Andrew’s tired of holding himself back. He wants so badly to touch and take, not to control but to cherish.

But he _can’t_. And it’s eating him alive. The only thing holding him back is Steven’s sweet innocence, that obliviousness that means he’s none the wiser to Andrew’s feelings. Even when it feels like Andrew’s writing them in the sky or putting them up on a billboard, Steven doesn’t seem to notice. Andrew knows it will ruin the show; getting what he wants will only complicate matters, regardless of the satisfaction it will bring him. He has to keep himself in check, and the only way he can do that is if Steven stays pristine and unattainable.

Everything is going fine until they’re sitting with Ryan and Shane one afternoon, just shooting the shit while they eat lunch. Everything is going _perfectly fine_ until Ryan makes a goofy, leering face, looks at Steven, and says—

“I heard Steven Lim, Superstar had a date this weekend.”

Andrew didn’t know that. Jealousy flares in his chest like a fire sprayed with gasoline. “What?”

Steven shrinks in his seat. “It was nothing. I mean, it was _nice_. The guy was nice, but it was nothing.”

Andrew’s brain stops, rewinds, and plays Steven’s words on repeat. _The guy, the guy, the guy._ “You went on a date with a guy?”

“Didn’t you hear?” Ryan says, unaffected by the glare Steven’s sending his way. Probably because Steven’s glares are at best _adorable_ , and at worst they’re childish.

“Hear what?” Andrew snarks back. His tone is maybe a little sharper than warranted. “That one of my best friends came out?” He tries to breathe deep. He’s not _mad_. Or, well, not at Steven. Of course not. It’s so hard to be mad at Steven these days. He’s annoyed with Ryan, sure, but never Steven.

“It wasn’t some big deal,” Steven says with a pointed look in Ryan’s direction. “It’s just…a recent development.”

“Sure,” Andrew agrees, smooth as can be. “I get it. You don’t need your business spread around the office.”

“That is kind of our whole job,” Shane points out. Andrew flicks a fry at him. “I’m just saying!”

“Well stop it,” Andrew says. He tries to inject a bit of humor in his tone, lighten the mood. _He’s not mad, honest_. He’s surprised, sure. And in the back of his mind, he can feel the carefully stacked reasons of why Steven is unattainable crumbling into a dusty heap, but he has to ignore that for now. “So, the date went well?”

Steven shrugs. He’s nervously shredding the paper napkin in his lap. His legs are swung over the arm of his chair and he looks impossibly small in the seat. “Yeah. He was nice, his name was David. We went to dinner.”

“That’s it?” Ryan asks. Not unkind, albeit maybe a little tactless.

_“Yes.”_ Steven snaps suddenly, his tone sharp and acidic. “That’s all.”

“That’s cool,” Andrew says, quick to soothe Steven’s embarrassment.

“I think we’re needed in the Ghoul HQ,” Shane says abruptly. He stands, crumbs tumbling from his lap to the floor. He curls a hand around Ryan’s bicep and hauls him out of his seat with a surprising amount of strength. Ryan doesn’t even protest as Shane drags him away.

Once their voices have faded, Steven sighs and melts into his seat. “It’s really not a big deal,” he insists.

“It’s not.” Andrew nods. “It’s your business.”

“I didn’t mean to not tell you,” Steven adds in a rush. “Just, I guess…word got around. I mentioned it to Jen, and I don’t know if she told someone but, you know how it is.”

“I do,” Andrew agrees. “Seriously, Steven, it’s okay. It’s your business.”

“Yeah, but you’re one of my best friends, too.” Steven sits up and reaches for Andrew, laying a hand on his forearm. “I don’t want you to think I don’t…I dunno, that I don’t trust you or something. Cuz that’s not it.”

Andrew puts on his best grin. He’s grateful Steven didn’t grab his wrist, where his pulse is jackhammering like it’s trying to bring down a city. “I get it,” he says, genuine. He does. He means it. It isn’t as though most people know about _his_ business, and he likes it that way. That said, he continues. “I guess now’s as good a time as any to tell you I’m bisexual.”

Steven sits back with his eyes wide in surprise. “Really?”

Andrew nods.

“You never told me.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he parrots. “And I was in a relationship for so long, it didn’t really matter. But since we’re sharing…” He holds out his hands as if to say, _‘there you have it.’_

Steven nods slowly, eventually. “Yeah, that makes sense. Thank you, for telling me.”

“Of course,” Andrew says and hopes his smile isn’t as strained as it feels. “What are best friends for?”

**_—_ **

“It’s not just dating,” Steven slurs to him a few days later. They’ve just got the go-ahead for the latest season of Worth It, and they’re celebrating, and the bar is packed and Steven is _drunk_. Andrew’s on his way there, but the sticky, fruity breath rolling off Steven is a little much, even for Andrew. Despite that, he doesn’t shrug off the arm Steven’s thrown around his shoulder and he doesn’t push Steven away. It’s dark, Steven’s drunk—he takes a chance and curls his arm around Steven’s waist.

“What?” Andrew hollers back over the thud of the bassline.

“The whole, dating-a-guy, thing.” Steven struggles to speak coherently at the best of times; it’s kind of endearing to watch him floundering here, especially when determination sparks in his eyes. He blurts, “I want to have sex!”

Andrew reels back like he’s been sucker-punched. “What?” He asks again.

“Sex!” Steven shouts, unhelpfully. “I’m tired of,” he falters, _“You know.”_ He does some sort of wavy gesture in the vicinity of his crotch and Andrew stares for a beat too long. “Not like I _only_ want to sleep with guys. But, I had this realization, right?”

“Right,” Andrew replies hoarsely.

“I’m bi!” He shouts, gleeful. “And it feels good to say! And I don’t want to be a virgin anymore! And…I dunno where I was going with this.”

“I don’t know either,” Andrew says. He tightens his arm around Steven’s waist and is rewarded with Steven leaning heavier against him. He can smell Steven’s shampoo, citrusy and bright. “But I support you.”

Steven, now leaning too far to stand up straight, shoots a grin at Andrew. “Thanks, buddy.”

Andrew nods and hurriedly brings his beer to his lips, so he doesn’t say something stupid. Steven makes no attempt to move out of his arms, and Andrew isn’t going to be the first to pull away. It feels too good to have Steven close like this even if the other man probably won’t remember it in the morning. Andrew finishes off his beer and commits to not drink for the rest of the night, so every moment of it is as clear as possible in his mind.

“David didn’t kiss me,” Steven says out of the blue, mournful in tone, a little while later. He’s still pressed along Andrew’s side except now they’re crammed into a booth in the back corner. Adam’s at the table too, watching Annie and Rie dance to some new hit song.

“Your date?” Andrew clarifies even though he already knows.

“Mhmm,” Steven says with a lolling nod. He’s had a few too many, probably. Andrew pushes Steven’s latest half-finished concoction away. “I wanted him to.”

“You should’ve kissed him.” Andrew’s keenly aware of Adam staring at them now. He looks unimpressed and amused. There’s a wary edge in his look, too; the kind that’s warning Andrew away from fucking this up irreparably.

_It’s fine,_ Andrew thinks. _I’m just being a good friend._

“I should’ve,” Steven agrees. He’s whiny. “I was just nervous. It was my first date with a guy!”

“But it went well.”

“Well enough.” Steven slouches in his seat and pillows his head on Andrew’s shoulder. “But it wasn’t _great_.”

“But you still wanted David to kiss you.”

Steven sighs. “I guess.”

Andrew looks down at him and raises an eyebrow. His words come out harsher than he intends. “Maybe you should think a little more about what you want.”

Steven doesn’t miss it, even as drunk as he is. He starts to sit up and Andrew tightens his arm around him on instinct. “Andrew…”

“I just mean,” Andrew fumbles with the words filling up his mouth, anxious to undo the upset. “I don’t want to see you hurt. This is new territory. It’s good to know _exactly_ what you want.”

Steven stops trying to get out of his grasp, but he’s not as close as he was. Andrew misses the warmth, desperately. He wants to pull Steven into his lap and just hold him—and okay, yes, maybe some other things. But mostly, he wants Steven close and warm and perfect.

“I think I should go home,” Steven says eventually. “I’m getting mopey drunk. No one likes a mopey drunk.”

“That’s true,” Andrew allows. “I’ll call an uber.”

Steven nods. Adam helps him out of the booth and Andrew follows, once again looping his arm around Steven’s waist. Before they can hobble away from the table, Adam catches Andrew by the bicep, and stares at him. He doesn’t say a word; not a single muscle in his face even twitches. Andrew just nods and Adam finally lets go.

Getting Steven out of the bar is easy enough; they take just enough time to say goodnight to Rie and Annie before they’re spilling into the night air. Steven’s giggling at something, probably a joke in his head. He’s got an arm over Andrew’s shoulders and the other is pressed right against Andrew’s chest, over his heart.

Andrew ignores the burning touch as he takes his phone out and pulls up the Uber app. “It’ll be about seven minutes.”

“Cool, cool.” Steven’s breathing deeply. “Might fall asleep.”

“Hey, hey,” Andrew says, even though there’s nothing more that he wants. Just, preferably in a bed. Steven’s beautiful when he sleeps. “None of that. C’mon, tell me about your ideas for the new season.”

Steven doesn’t. He says, “I wouldn’t have let David have sex with me.”

It’s like an electric current runs through Andrew, with how badly he jolts. “Yeah?”

Steven nods. “I wanted him to kiss me. But he’s not…I didn’t want him…” Steven keeps trailing off and Andrew doesn’t know if it’s embarrassment or the alcohol.

“I think that’s a good thing,” Andrew says. The jealous beast living inside his chest known as his heart is hammering hard. He’s _pleased_. “You shouldn’t settle for the first guy who shows interest.”

“I’m tired of _waiting_ , though.”

“I know, Steven.” Andrew rubs his thumb soothingly over the small of Steven’s back. And, if his touch slips under the cotton tee, just a little—no one needs to know. Their uber pulls up and Andrew pours Steven into the backseat before sliding in himself. “I just think being a little…judicial, about who you sleep with is a good idea.”

Steven looks scandalized that Andrew said it in the uber, but the driver pointedly doesn’t look at them. The door shuts, they buckle their seatbelts, and they’re off.

“Help me to the door?” Steven asks when they pull up to the curb outside the motel he’s staying at.

“Sure. Can you hang out?” He asks the uber driver and gets a nod in return. “Shouldn’t be long.” He gets out of the car and then helps Steven out and up to his motel room. Once at the door, he watches Steven pat himself down for his room key until he finally digs it out of his wallet.

“Remember,” Steven starts before he slides the key into the lock. “Remember how you said it’s good to know what I want?”

Andrew nods.

“I know what I want.” Steven looks at him. His eyes are glassy and his lips are wet. “I want you to kiss me.”

Andrew chokes on his next inhale. “You want what?”

“For you, to kiss me.”

Andrew doesn’t even think about the repercussions. He doesn’t think about the show, or his friendship with Steven, or the warning looks Adam was shooting him all night. He simply surges forward and grips Steven’s arms and kisses him. He goes as gently as he can stand, starting soft until Steven lets out a shuddering whine and Andrew slips his tongue into his mouth.

Steven goes tight and tense against him but doesn’t pull away. Andrew memorizes every inch of Steven’s mouth, and the way fruity booze tastes on his tongue. The taste that’s uniquely Steven, underneath all the sugar. His hands glide up until he’s cupping Steven’s cheeks and they’re exchanging breathless moans each time they pull apart and crash back together.

Andrew presses closer and closer until he’s got Steven up against the motel room door and their bodies are like a single line, too close to tell apart. It’s all heat, tension, _perfection._ Andrew’s head is swimming like he’s drunk on Steven’s mouth. He rolls his hips forward and groans, low and deep, at the feeling of Steven’s erection against his own.

That’s when Steven rears back as if burned, his head colliding with the motel door. “Andrew, Andrew, wait.”

Andrew doesn’t listen, at first. Not because he doesn’t want to but because he can’t stop himself. He kisses the corner of Steven’s mouth, his jawline, and he’s ready to mark Steven’s neck up bright red when two hands land on his chest and send him stumbling back.

“Goodnight, Andrew,” Steven says quickly, his face a mess of a pink, blotchy blush. He fumbles with his keycard and slips into the room and shuts the door in Andrew’s face. Andrew stands there, half expecting Steven to come back out; he stands there until his phone buzzes in his pocket with a message from the uber driver.

Andrew’s lips tingle the whole drive home.

**_—_ **

He fully expects Steven to avoid him, so to find the other man waiting on his doorstep the next morning is surprising to say the least. Andrew’s still in pajamas, hasn’t even had his coffee yet; meanwhile, Steven looks ready to burst out of his skin and the buttons on his shirt aren’t done up properly.

“Steven?” Andrew asks in a voice still groggy with sleep.

“We need to talk.” Steven takes a step closer and Andrew takes a step back, letting him in. The door falls shut behind him. “Last night…”

Shame burns on Andrew’s face. “Steven, I’m sorry—?”

“Stop.”

Andrew stops.

“It… I just…” Steven’s struggling, and Andrew wants to help. But he doesn’t know what to say to make things better. He doesn’t know what to do to make Steven stop stammering his way through this. “I was drunk, and overwhelmed, and I wanted it. But.”

“But,” Andrew says. His voice is barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know if. If it was a good idea.”

Andrew’s heart isn’t breaking in his chest. It’s fracturing like frozen glass, spiderweb cracks spreading across. “Let me convince you?”

Steven blinks in surprise. “What?”

Andrew’s mouth feels as though it’s full of sand. He gapes for a second before the words just start to tumble from his mouth. “Let me convince you. That this is a good idea.”

_That I can make you feel good. That I can make you happy._

Steven lets out a shuddering breath. “I don’t…I don’t know.”

“Please.” Andrew’s _this_ close to dropping to his knees and begging. He takes a hesitant step closer and Steven doesn’t lean away. “Let me show you,” he breathes.

Steven’s next sound is a pathetic whimper and it’s all the permission Andrew needs.

He surges forward, similar to the way he did the night before. The door is only just behind Steven and he falls against it with a heavy _thud_. Steven groans as his back hits the door and Andrew wastes no time caging him against the wood. Steven’s mouth tastes like toothpaste and coffee and it’s disgusting and Andrew can’t get enough.

Andrew lets out a moan of his own and lets his body sink against Steven’s. First their chests: all the warmth of Steven pressed against the thin cotton of Andrew’s tee. Then their hips: bony edges against bony edges. Then their groins, and Andrew can’t help but rut forward and chase his pleasure.

Stevens squeaks into the kiss and Andrew drinks the sound down greedily. He thrusts his hips against Steven’s and relishes how perfectly their cocks glide together, even through layers of clothing. Steven’s moaning and writhing against him, like the best kind of sin. Andrew presses impossibly closer until he’s spreading Steven’s legs, nearly hitching one up over his thigh for better access.

The kiss, unlike the night before, breaks gently. Steven leans back and his eyes flutter shut and Andrew admires the flush on his face.

“You’re beautiful,” Andrew murmurs. He brings a hand from the door to cup Steven’s face. “You don’t know how long I’ve…”

Steven opens his eyes. His pupils are dilated, crazed. “Andrew, I still don’t know…”

Andrew interrupts him with another kiss. It’s harder than the first kiss. He bites at Steven’s bottom lip and sucks at it to soothe the ache. Steven squirms and Andrew finally makes up his mind. He brings both hands to Steven’s ass, and lifts.

Steven yelps, throwing his head back, and scrambles to get his arms around Andrew’s neck. “Andrew, I—!”

“Sh, shh,” Andrew murmurs, pressing his face against Steven’s neck. “I got you.” His hands curve around Steven’s ass perfectly and he’s addicted to the tight warmth in his hands. “You’ve been working out more,” he observes idly before biting down on Steven’s neck. He doesn’t suck or leave a mark; he knows Steven wouldn’t like that. He bites and lets his teeth dig in just enough to ache. He laps over the abused skin and does it again a little lower, then on the other side, then at the curvature where Steven’s neck meets his shoulder.

“Andrew, Andrew,” Steven pants. He’s shoving lightly at Andrew’s shoulders.

“I’m here,” Andrew moans back. He grinds forward and _fuck_ , this angle is even better. Between Steven’s legs is Andrew’s new favorite place to be and he never wants to leave. He thrusts forward fast and hard. The door creaks under their combined weight and it only adds to the orchestra of their moans and whines, their voices blending together in perfect harmony.

“Andrew!” Steven shouts.

Wet heat fills the space between them as Steven comes in his pants, and his shuddering body pushes Andrew over the edge suddenly, too. Andrew rocks forward as he comes and pants wetly against Steven’s jaw.

“ _Ah_ ,” he breathes, “ _Fuck_.” He stays like that, slumped against Steven, until the other man starts to squirm again.

“Can you let me down, Andrew?” Steven asks softly.

Andrew nods and helps Steven’s feet hit the floor, letting his touch longer on Steven’s shaking thighs. Finally, he takes a step back.

Steven lets out a heavy exhale. “That was…”

Andrew waits with bated breath.

“That was a lot,” Steven says eventually.

“Did I convince you?”

Steven doesn’t look at him, but Andrew takes his fill of Steven. His kiss-bitten lips and post-orgasm flush. All of it paints the most beautiful picture. Andrew’s cock twitches in his slacks, although he doesn’t think he could convince Steven to go again. “Maybe,” he says. “I should get going, though. I, uh. Have plans today.”

Andrew nods. “Sure, okay.”

Steven finally looks up and he’s got a shaky smile on his face. “Maybe, uh. One more kiss, for the road?”

Andrew’s surprised by the request. Surprised, but not displeased. He approaches cautiously and leans in even slower to brush nothing more than a chaste peck across Steven’s smooth lips. He lets it press for a moment, then pulls away. “Have a good day, Steven.”

Steven nods. Almost absent-mindedly, he touches his lips before he turns away. “I’ll talk to you later, Andrew,” he says.

Andrew watches him go, and falls against the door when he leaves.

**_—_ **

To the surprise of no one, Andrew can’t stop thinking about it afterwards. He thinks about it all day Saturday (read: jerks off all day Saturday) and then Sunday, too. He walks into work on Monday, knowing Steven is still in town for another week, uncertain of where they stand. Steven’s sitting in his usual spot beside Andrew’s desk, and flashes him a bright smile—but makes no move to kiss or touch him.

So Andrew follows his lead. He falls into his desk chair and grins. “What’s on the agenda today?”

“Like you don’t already know,” Steven says fondly. “Lasagna!”

“I’m gonna die,” Andrew says, assured. “Three different lasagnas in one day?” He shakes his head. _“Dead.”_

Steven smiles. “What a way to go, huh?”

Andrew nods. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 

Despite the cheery morning, things don’t last. And it’s Andrew’s fault, he knows. It’s not as though Steven is trying to be a tease; surely Steven hasn’t forgotten about Saturday morning. It’s all on Andrew. He can’t stop thinking about it and he can’t get the feeling of Steven writhing against him out of his head. It’s not fair, really, to be thinking about it while they’re trying to film and when they’re in the car from location to location.

By the time they’re back in the office, Andrew’s hard in his jeans and probably not thinking straight when he asks Steven, “Can I talk to you, privately?”

Steven blinks owlishly at him, but nods. He follows Andrew away from their desks and to a nearby, empty conference room. Andrew doesn’t quite shut the door behind him.

“What’s up?” Steven asks.

“Have you thought about...Saturday, at all?” Andrew asks. He figures the best thing he can do is be blunt.

Steven’s face immediately floods with a blush. “Y-yeah.”

Andrew waits.

“I don’t know if this is the really the time or place, Andrew?” Steven hedges.

“I just…I just want to know what you’re thinking,” Andrew says. “Because I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Neither can I.” Steven swallows audibly.

Andrew, emboldened, takes a few steps closer. “Yeah?” He reaches past Steven to shut the door the rest of the way. Meanwhile, Steven slips out from in front of him and wanders over to one of the chairs sitting at the long table in the center of the room. “I’m glad it’s not just me.”

“Of course it’s not,” Steven says. It’s almost a scoff, as if the very idea of him not thinking about it is ludicrous. Which, maybe it is; tell that to Andrew’s unsure, over eager heart.

“So…”

“So, this really isn’t appropriate, Andrew.” Steven rounds to face him. “We’re at _work_.”

“But you’re leaving, soon.”

Steven sighs. “I know.” He rubs at the back of his neck. “I still don’t really know if it’s a good idea. Long distance is hard. And with the show…”

“I thought I convinced you,” Andrew says. He finally follows Steven across the room to the conference table, although he keeps a respectable distance. Steven seems a bit like a spooked animal at the moment, as if he’ll bolt at any second. “Wasn’t it good? Didn’t I make you feel good?”

“You did,” Steven replies. “I just…”

Andrew waits but all he gets is a half-hearted shrug. Andrew makes up his mind quickly; it’s an easy choice to make, so painfully easy when faced with Steven’s bashful expression. He doesn’t think about the show, their jobs, anything other than making Steven feel good. Andrew drops to his knees.

“Andrew!” Steven shouts, scandalized. “ _Stop it._ What are you _doing_?”

Andrew shuffles forward on his knees and gets his hands on Steven’s skinny jeans. He goes for his belt without hesitation. “What does it look like?” He says, voice sultry and thick with his own arousal. Steven’s clearly growing hard and Andrew’s mouth starts to water.

Steven’s hands flutter anxiously above Andrew’s head, like he doesn’t know whether to stop him or tug him closer. Either way, he frets long enough for Andrew to get his belt off and his pants down. Andrew sits back to stare at Steven’s cock tenting his cotton boxer briefs and swallows the saliva filling his mouth.

“Perfect,” he breathes. He leans in again and nuzzles against the soft cotton. He inhales deeply and tastes the scent of sweat and body wash that is Steven, pure down to his core. It’s musky and heavy and Andrew needs more. He mouths at Steven’s cock; he presses his tongue to the leaking tip.

“A-Andrew,” Steven says. His hands settle in Andrew’s hair and grip it tight. He neither pushes or pulls, just holds on. “Oh, god,” he whimpers.

“I’ll make you feel good,” Andrew promises. “You’ll see.” He pulls Steven’s cock from the slit in his briefs and takes him down to the hilt in a single fell swoop. It’s a bit much at first, and Andrew’s out of practice, but he moans at the intrusion. His throat flexes and works around Steven’s dick and a spurt of precome spills over his tongue.

“Andrew,” Steven whines again. Now he’s tugging, pulling at Andrew’s hair and trying to get him to pull off.

Andrew obeys but only goes back far enough for Steven’s cock to rest on his bottom lip. “What?” He asks, voice already wrecked.

Steven gapes down at him. His breathing is shaky and uneven, and when Andrew presses a soft kiss to the tip of his cock, Steven’s hips jump and smear precome across Andrew’s cheek. “I don’t think we should do this.”

“But isn’t it good?”

“Yeah, of course it is.”

“Then there’s no problem,” Andrew says. He bats at Steven’s hands and sinks back down. The head of Steven’s cock skirts over the roof of his mouth and hits the back of his throat. Andrew groans and drops a hand to his own crotch. It’s a struggle to get his pants open one-handed, but he manages. He curls his hand around his cock and strokes himself off in time to the little, gentle thrusts Steven pushes into his mouth.

Andrew moans in encouragement and Steven thrusts faster, harder, deeper, until Andrew is gagging and spit is dribbling down the sides of his chin. Steven’s hands find his hair again and he still clearly can’t make up his mind. One second he’s shoving Andrew away but the next he’s dragging him forward, forcing his cock deeper.

Andrew comes first. It happens in one of the rare moments when Steven moans his name and drags him closer. Andrew comes with the sensation of precome dripping down his throat and his mouth full of nothing but hard heat. He catches his release in his hand the best he can without looking.

“Did you just?” Steven asks, stilted and disjointed.

Andrew looks up at him through heavy lidded eyes, and whatever Steven sees staring back is enough to push him over the edge, too. His come spills into Andrew’s mouth and Andrew drinks it down obediently, until Steven’s shoving at him hard and hissing, sensitive.

Andrew falls back and licks his lips, still staring up at Steven.

“Andrew,” Steven says, and he sounds equal parts breathless and miserable. He sinks slowly until he’s on the ground in front of Andrew.

“Steven,” he counters. His voice is raspy.

Steven stares at him with an unreadable look on his face. “I…” He shakes his head. “We should get going. People are probably getting suspicious.” He smiles, then. A gentle, delicate look that Andrew cherishes. Steven reaches up and toys with Andrew’s hair. “You look… well, you look like you just sucked someone off.”

Andrew can’t help it; he beams.

Steven shakes his head, fond. He tilts his head at Andrew.

Andrew takes that an invitation and leans in. Steven lays a hand on his chest, but after a moment he relents. He lets Andrew in close and accepts a sweet kiss.

He wrinkles his nose at the taste though, and Andrew laughs.

“What, not a fan of your own come?”

“Andrew!” Steven shouts and pushes him back. “Shush.” He tucks his cock away and pulls up his pants again before struggling to stand. Andrew helps him up as he stands as well. “Honestly.”

Andrew shrugs. “I have no excuse.”

“I know you don’t,” Steven says with something like a sad smile on his face.

**_—_ **

Andrew decides he needs to make the most of his time while Steven is still in town—and the craziest part is, _Steven lets him._

They film and they plan and they go to meetings and at odd hours of the day, Steven lets Andrew drag him off to conference rooms or bathrooms or closets. Every time, Steven puts up a token protest:

 

_The rack behind them, full of cleaning supplies, rattles under their weight. Steven is in his arms again and shaking like a leaf as Andrew carefully strokes them off, his hand curled around both their cocks._

_“Andrew,” Steven hisses. “Someone might hear.”_

_“It’s okay,” Andrew assures even as shadows pass in front of the door and footsteps fade back and forth. “I’ve got you.”_

_“Andrew!” Steven chides in a voice barely above a whisper; Andrew distracts him with a kiss._

 

And—

 

_“We’re going to get caught,” Steven says in a trembling tone. His voice vibrates against the conference table Andrew has him spread out on. His pants are around his ankles and it’s Andrew’s first time seeing Steven’s bare ass, perfect and taut._

_“It’s fine,” Andrew says. The conference room door doesn’t lock but he slapped a hasty DO NOT DISTURB sticky note on it when Steven wasn’t looking. It won’t exactly be a secret what they’re doing in here—especially not with the way Steven wails when Andrew tongues at his hole—but no one should interrupt them._

_“Andrew, I really don’t, ah, ahh, I don’t think—?”_

_“Just let me take care of you,” Andrew growls, his words pressed against Steven’s most intimate skin._

_Steven falls quiet and arches his back ever so slightly._

_Permission._

 

And—

_“It won’t take long,” Andrew promises, speaking louder than Steven’s babbling half-protests. They’re tucked into a filming room that’s empty. The thought of getting a camera on Steven is appealing, but he knows the other man would never go for it. “I’ve been thinking about it all day.”_

_“When aren’t you?” Steven retorts. He pushes his hips forward as Andrew ruts against him. “People are getting suspicious.”_

_“Let them be. I don’t care.”_

_“I do!” Steven insists before it dissolves into a moan. “I care.”_

_“You shouldn’t. No one else matters.” Andrew stops his onslaught on Steven’s neck (he’s long since stopped resisting the urge to leave marks, and Steven’s neck was made to be covered in hickies). He narrows his eyes at Steven._

_Steven gulps and nods. “Yeah, okay.”_

 

So that’s what they do. Steven lets Andrew touch him and taste him and make him come, all in between eating gluttonous foods and planning _more_ food to eat a few weeks later when Steven’s in town again. Andrew’s pretty content with the system they’ve set up, even if he knows he’ll miss it when it comes time for Steven to return to New York.

That’s why he offers, really. Fear of missing out. That’s still a thing, isn’t it?

He and Steven are leaving a conference room, both of them flushed and smelling of sweat, when he brings it up. “So, your flight…”

“Is Saturday morning,” comes Steven’s clipped reply.

Andrew nods. “Are you going to date while you’re back there?”

Steven stops and Andrew bumps into him slightly. “What?”

“Well, we didn’t really put a label on this. I know you said you wanted to get out there more.”

Steven’s face is burning worse than when Andrew’s fingers were inside him only a few minutes prior. “I did,” he says. “But.” He stops and bites his lip.

“I don’t mind if you want to see other people,” Andrew lies. The very thought makes that beast in his chest roar again; but he knows he owes it to Steven to give him an out. If he’s lucky, Steven will still let him touch and take and taste, even if other people are the ones taking him out to dinner.

“I don’t want to,” Steven replies. “What we have…that’s enough for me.”

“Yeah?” Andrew smiles and tilts his head and Steven shrinks slightly against the wall. It’s amazing for the inches he has on Andrew, how small Steven can look sometimes. He places a gentle hand on Steven’s hip, underneath his cotton-candy-pink tee. He leans in and presses a kiss to the corner of Steven’s mouth. “You sure it’s enough?” He teases a little, “There are still things we haven’t tried.”

Steven stiffens against him. “I know,” he says.

“You could come over tomorrow night. I can drive you to the airport Saturday morning.”

“It’s an early flight,” Steven says. “I couldn’t ask that of you.”

“I don’t mind.” Besides, the opportunity to wake up to Steven in his bed—something he hasn’t gotten yet—is too good to miss.

Steven shakes his head. He presses a hand firmly against Andrew’s chest and forces him back a few steps. “No, that’s okay. I’ve already made plans for my stuff.” With that, he slips out of Andrew’s grasp and hurries away.

Andrew watches him go with a sinking feeling in his chest.

 

He’s not surprised when Steven avoids him the next day.

It’s the last full day before Steven is meant to be back across the country. They don’t have much planned for the day. There’s no filming to be done and no meetings to be had; when Andrew gets into work, Steven is already there, hunched over his laptop in some odd corner of the main office—away from Andrew’s desk, where he usually sets up shop. Steven’s got headphones in and looks engrossed in whatever he’s doing, so Andrew leaves him be.

At first, he was confident that Steven would wander back to him. Steven always seems to, after all. But he doesn’t. Lunch hour comes and goes, as do bathroom breaks and moments taken to chatter idly with coworkers. All the while, Steven never once approaches Andrew, and Andrew finds himself frozen with fear in the pit of his stomach. He’s too surprised, too discomforted to even try and approach Steven himself.

It lasts up until the office is emptying out for the weekend. Someone shouts about a tiki bar, asks if Andrew’s in. He casts a glance to where he knows Steven is packing up his things. Their eyes meet, and Steven looks away first, and Andrew agrees to go to the tiki bar.

He spends the entire time thinking of only a week prior, when Steven was drunk and hanging all over him. When he first got to kiss Steven. And the morning after, when he got to make Steven come and cry out and—

“You’re looking woozy, man,” Ryan tells him. “Maybe you should call it a night.”

Andrew’s hard in his pants so he agrees, and Ryan helps him fumble with his phone to order an uber. He hadn’t meant to get so drunk tonight, it was just—every time he thought of Steven, he took a sip, and some unknown force kept filling up his drinks when they emptied. He doesn’t even know how much he’s had; he only knows his heart is aching as hard as his cock and he might accidentally say that aloud to the uber driver.

He staggers up to his house but stops. His uber screeches away from the curb, echoing into the night, and Andrew blinks. He rubs at his eyes, sure that what he’s seeing isn’t real.

Because what he’s seeing is Steven, with a suitcase on either side of him, sitting on the front steps of Andrew’s place. He looks miserable.

Andrew stumbles over to him and bangs his knees on the steps as he lands ungracefully. “Steven?” He asks. He immediately reaches out to get a hand on Steven, starting on his knee and sliding up to his thigh. Andrew still can’t quite believe the other man is _here_.

“Hey.”

“What are you doing here?” Andrew asks. He forces his words out carefully, but the alcohol makes it so hard.

“I cancelled my flight back to New York. Or, well, I moved it. To tomorrow afternoon.”

Andrew breaks into a grin. “Come inside?”

Steven nods and stands.

 

Andrew barely gives Steven time to set his suitcases down before he’s on him. He cups Steven’s cheeks and kisses him messily. All the lust that’s been piling up since this morning comes spilling out in desperate groans that Andrew feeds into Steven’s mouth. Steven squirms in his arms. One second he’s tugging at Andrew’s shirt like he wants it off, and the next he’s trying to get away. Steven can never make up his mind; Andrew finds it endearing.

“Calm down,” Andrew murmurs.

“We need to talk,” Steven hisses back. His hands are clenching on Andrew’s shoulders. “That’s why I came here tonight.”

“No, it’s not.” Andrew kisses him again and sucks on Steven’s tongue. He’s got Steven pressed up against a hallway wall but he wants Steven in his bed, _finally_. He takes Steven by the hips with a bruisingly hard grips and pulls. “Bed,” he growls as they awkwardly walk their way toward the bedroom at the end of the hall. Andrew’s guiding Steven but Steven’s still not sure, still fighting.

He even throws out a hand and curls his fingers around the door jamb.

“Stop that,” Andrew says. “I’m going to make you feel good, Steven.”

“I know,” Steven says like it hurts him. “I don’t know if, if I’m ready.”

“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to,” Andrew promises. “You know that.”

Steven stops his wriggling and looks at Andrew. His gaze is hooded and his lips are quivering and Andrew wants to wreck this beautiful man so desperately. “Andrew…”

“Steven,” Andrew counters. “Don’t you trust me?”

Steven nods immediately. “Of course I do.”

“Then let me,” Andrew says. He kisses Steven once then peppers pecks along his jaw until he can tug at Steven’s earlobe. “Let me make you feel good. Just trust me, Steven.”

Steven’s hand falls from the door jamb and wraps around Andrew’s shoulder instead. “Okay,” he says. “Just, just—?”

“I won’t do anything you don’t want,” Andrew promises again. Whatever else Steven might have wanted to say gets lost in their next kiss.

Andrew walks Steven backwards until they go tumbling onto the bed together. Steven scoots until his head is on the pillow and he looks up at Andrew with wide eyes and a wider mouth.

“I want something,” Andrew asks, tracing the shape of Steven’s lips with his mouth, and then his thumb when he can’t resist touching. Steven only blinks. “I want you to suck me,” he says lowly. He already feels dangerously close; his head is still swimming but the pleasure in his veins has him sobering up.

“Andrew,” Steven starts.

Andrew presses his thumb into Steven’s mouth and rubs against the flat of his tongue. He pushes in a little deeper until Steven gags and his throat flutters around Andrew’s finger.

“I want to feel you,” he pleads softly, watching Steven slowly adjust and start to suckle mindlessly on his thumb. “I want it so bad, Steven. I’ve made you feel so good, haven’t I?”

Steven nods after a moment. His hands come up and land on Andrew’s belt. He makes quick work of the leather and jeans and boxers, and Andrew shudders as his cock is exposed to the cool air of his bedroom.

Reluctantly he lets his thumb slip from Steven’s mouth so he can clamber off the bed and shuck his clothes, including his sweater. Naked, he climbs back on the bed higher up this time, closer to Steven’s face.

Steven eyes his cock like it’s something to be feared.

Andrew reaches out and combs a gentle hand through Steven’s lavender locks. “It’s okay.”

Steven’s gaze flicks up to him before his mouth drops open again. Andrew reaches out and hooks his thumb on Steven’s bottom lip at the same time he says, “Wider.”

Steven obeys and finally opens his mouth wide enough for Andrew’s cock to fit. Andrew’s hands are shaking as he guides himself inside.

He shudders and barely resists the urge to buck his hips forward; the wet heat is immediately perfect and Andrew wants _more._ He keeps a torturously slow pace, instead. He feeds his cock into Steven’s mouth barely an inch at a time and watches, enraptured, as Steven takes it all.

“So good,” Andrew chokes out. “Fuck, Steven, you look so good. You’re doing so good.”

It’s the right thing to say as Steven’s eyes flutter and he moans softly around Andrew’s cock. The vibrations hit him to his core and he simply can’t hold back any longer.

“I’m going to move now,” Andrew says as he tightens the hand in Steven’s hair. Steven’s eyes fly open and he looks startled, surprised, but he doesn’t object as Andrew carefully pulls out and pushes back in. He wants to thrust and slam forward, pound into Steven’s sinful mouth that he’s been obsessed with for far too long.

But the longer he keeps up this slow pace, the more Steven relaxes. He melts against Andrew’s bed and his eyes flutter shut again, contented. He lets out these little whiny moans each time Andrew’s dick brushes the back of his throat, and gasps whenever his mouth is empty. He takes it so perfectly, so beautifully; Andrew could come just like this.

“I don’t know whether I want to come in your mouth or on your face,” Andrew murmurs absently. He guides Steven to meet his thrust by the grip on his hair. It lets him press a little deeper, feel the muscles twitching in Steven’s throat. All the while, Steven never struggles, even as his whimpers increase and tears pool in his eyes. “Which do you think, Steven?”

Andrew backs off until his cock is drooling precome against Steven’s chin. Steven takes a moment to gasp for air.

“Either,” he croaks. He licks his lips, tongue brushing the tip of Andrew’s dick and sending sparks of electric pleasure up his spine.

Andrew bites his bottom lip. “Can I go harder?” He asks.

Steven swallows. “Do you have to?”

“I want to,” he says earnestly. “It’ll feel so good. You’re doing so well, Steven, I know you can take it.”

Steven looks unsure as he nods. He doesn’t answer except to open his mouth and slide his lips over Andrew’s cock again. He looks up, and Andrew tightens his grip once more.

He still doesn’t go as fast or as hard as he wants to. What he _wants_ is to push Steven down against the bed and thrust into his mouth until he’s a mess of nothing but spit and come. He wants to hold Steven still as he fills his mouth over and over again, until his throat aches and all he can taste is _Andrew_.

He doesn’t. Andrew simply thrusts a little faster, a little harder than before. He knots both hands in Steven’s hair and drags him to meet every thrust. The closer to orgasm he gets, the less control he has. His thrusts turn wonky and uneven, pushing too far and then not far enough. Steven gags around him every few thrusts, sometimes trying to lean out of Andrew’s grip. He even gets a hand on Andrew’s thigh and his nails bite into the flesh there.

But he never stops Andrew, never pushes him away. The pain of the nails in his thigh is grounding, simultaneously pushes Andrew closer and further from the brink of coming.

“Oh, god, Steven,” Andrew pants. “Even better than I imagined.”

Steven moans and preens and presses minutely closer at the same moment that Andrew thrusts forward especially hard. Steven coughs and gags and the tears in his eyes finally roll down his cheeks and Andrew comes.

He holds Steven on his cock as he pumps his come down Steven’s throat. He comes harder than he ever has before; his vision whites out as he humps against Steven’s face and chases the last tendril shocks of pleasure. He almost falls forward, so sated from his release. He manages to unknot a hand from Steven’s hair and catch himself on the headboard instead.

Gently, Andrew helps Steven lay back. “Steven?”

Steven’s shaking. “Give me a minute.”

Andrew sits back and nods. “Okay.”

He watches Steven’s chest rise and fall rapidly. He watches a bead of sweat trail down the side of Steven’s face, mingling with the tear tracks sticking to his skin. He watches Steven struggle to sit up and prop himself against the headboard.

“That was a lot,” Steven says as he rubs at his throat.

An apology is on the tip of Andrew’s tongue, but he doesn’t want to say it; it felt too good to be sorry for. “Let me help,” he says instead.

Steven eyes him warily but gives him a slight, jerky nod. Andrew scoots back on the bed and reaches for the hem of Steven’s shirt. He draws it off slowly and admires each inch of skin revealed to him. With all their rendezvous happening at work, Andrew’s only gotten to see brief flashes of Steven’s body.

“Will you lay back for me?”

Steven hesitates.

“I just want to make you feel good, Steven.”

Steven sinks back down and Andrew moves with him, climbing between his thighs. Andrew’s keenly aware of his own nudity, but doesn’t undress Steven all the way yet. He lowers himself on top of Steven, holds himself up by pressing his elbows into the bed.

“Is this okay?”

Steven smiles up at him. “Yeah, this is good.” He raises his arms and winds them around Andrew’s shoulders.

Andrew beams. “Good,” he murmurs. “Just, tell me if you need me to stop.”

He dips down and presses a kiss to the dip in Steven’s chest, between his pecs. He moves up first, peppering kisses over his already hickey-bruised neck. Steven shudders underneath him and tilts his head back to give Andrew better access. Andrew presses a final kiss to Steven’s bobbing adam’s apple. Then he shifts until he can bite at the curve of Steven’s neck and shoulder, then to the ball of his shoulder, leaving reddening marks in his wake.

“Andrew,” Steven sighs. “Feels good.”

Warmth buzzes through Andrew down to his toes. “Good,” he whispers. He trails kisses down Steven’s bicep, loving the tight coil of muscle under his lips. Then he shifts gears and moves to Steven’s chest again.

Andrew kisses the top of Steven’s pec, then down, skirting the edges of his nipple before taking the pebbled nub into his mouth. Andrew grazes his teeth over the skin and Steven’s back arches.

“Oh!”

Andrew smirks and sucks at Steven’s nipple until the other man is writhing and panting.

“Too much,” Steven gasps, and Andrew sucks harder. When he’s satisfied with the feeling of tender, flushed skin against his tongue, Andrew pulls away. Steven’s shuddering and shaking and he winces as Andrew turns his attention to his other nipple. “Andrew,” Steven moans. His hands are in Andrew’s hair and they just run through the locks, tangling before smoothing them out.

Andrew works that nipple until it’s flushed and swollen the same way. He leans back to admire the sight; on a whim, he reaches out and flicks one of Steven’s nipples and gets a wet, breathy sob for his troubles.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, and finally reaches for Steven’s belt. Steven lifts his hips obediently and Andrew tosses the belt aside, then it’s on to Steven’s skinny jeans. They come off easy despite how tightly they hug his body; Steven twists and turns to help Andrew get them off, and he wriggles out of his briefs before Andrew can even try to touch them.

And then Steven’s laid out bare before him. All long lines and lithe muscle. Perfection, all for Andrew to touch and taste and take.

“Andrew?” Steven’s voice is small.

“I don’t know what I want to do first.” His cock is half-hard and getting harder as a myriad of scenarios run through his head. He could eat Steven out, one of his favorite things to do; he could suck Steven off until he’s over sensitive and screaming. He could finger Steven until he’s open and gaping.

“So many options,” he breathes.

“Andrew,” Steven whines. He’s squirming. He’s impatient, and it’s an addictive sight.

“Shush,” Andrew says. “I’m thinking.”

Steven sinks back against the blankets. “I had an idea.”

Andrew motions for Steven to continue.  

“Just…just finger me, and then fuck me.”

The words, coming from Steven’s flushed lips, nearly undo Andrew. There’s so much he wants to do but he knows there’s not enough time for it all tonight. Steven’s gaze is heavy and his lips are pouty and Andrew is just too weak to resist.

“Okay,” he relents. He reaches over to the bedside table and digs the tube of lube out. He slicks up three fingers a bit excessively, it drips onto the bedsheets and Steven’s thighs. He pushes Steven’s legs apart gently and spreads him with one hand, bringing two slick fingers to Steven’s hole.

“You’re so beautiful,” Andrew says as he watches the tight ring of muscle swallow his finger bit by bit. Steven tenses around him but throws his head back in a moan. He grinds down on Andrew’s finger; the sensation is probably familiar to him by now, after all their little moments at work throughout the week.

He works his finger in down to the knuckle, pulls it out and thrusts in again. Steven relaxes moment by moment until the glide is easy and moans are toppling from his mouth. Andrew slides in a second finger on his next thrust forward and Steven tenses again. He relaxes quicker this time and Andrew can slip his third finger in sooner.

“So much,” Steven moans, and Andrew can’t blame him. Workplace trysts didn’t exactly allow for a lot of time to finger someone, so this is all pretty new to Steven. He takes Andrew’s fingers so well but he hasn’t done it often, and not with three fingers.

“You’re doing so well,” Andrew assures. He untangles himself from between Steven’s spread thighs to lay at his side instead, still working his fingers inside him. The position lets him get close enough to kiss Steven, to watch every flicker of pleasure run across his face.

“Feels good,” Steven says with a shudder. His head lolls to the side and he smiles at Andrew. It doesn’t last but the expression that replaces it is even better: pure bliss as Andrew’s fingers find his prostate and torment it. Steven’s brow scrunches together and his mouth drops open as a litany of moans falls from his lips.

His hips are working urgently to meet Andrew’s thrusts and his erect cock is bouncing against his stomach, untouched.

“Are you gonna come?” Andrew asks, breathless.

Steven nods. “Close,” he hisses. Andrew puts all his focus into hitting Steven’s prostate until he’s wailing, come spurting suddenly from his cock as his body goes tense.

Andrew keeps thrusting even after Steven’s gone lax and loose-limbed.

“Too much,” Steven says, lust slurring his words. He shoves half-heartedly at Andrew’s arm still working between his legs.

“You’ll like this.” Andrew is sure of it. _He’s_ going to like it, so he’s sure Steven will, too. He keeps his fingers focused on Steven’s prostate and when Steven starts to squirm, Andrew turns them.

He gets Steven to roll over to his side and Andrew spoons up against his back. He holds Steven still with an arm thrown around his chest, while his other hand thrusts diligently into Steven. Steven still tries to wriggle away but stops when Andrew lets the tip of his pinky finger slip in alongside the rest.

“It’s too much, Andrew!” Steven shouts.

Andrew hooks his chin over Steven’s shoulder and watches his cock harden again. “No, no, you’re taking it so well. It feels good, doesn’t it?”

He curls his fingers deliberately and Steven’s body jerks. He does it again and again, relentless, relishing every shocked movement radiating through Steven. Andrew presses his hips forward and ruts his cock against the small of Steven’s back. He could come like this, watching Steven’s cock drool and listening to his whimpers and whines. He could mark up Steven’s back with his come and suck him off.

“Andrew, Andrew, _Andrew,_ ” Steven chants. Something wet hits Andrew’s cheek, and he realizes Steven is crying.

“It feels so good, doesn’t it?” Andrew asks. “Will you come again?”

Steven’s trembling in his arms and each little moan is wet and choked off. He doesn’t nod, or speak, or do anything, really. He shoves his face against the pillow and Andrew looks down to watch as a weaker load of come spills from Steven’s cock, smearing across his stomach and onto the bedsheets.

“So good,” Andrew says, awed. When Steven stops pulsing around his fingers, Andrew finally draws them out.

“I think,” Steven speaks suddenly. “I think that’s enough for tonight.”

Andrew sits up. Without his weight holding Steven, the other man rolls onto his back and stares up at Andrew. “What?”

“I think I’m done.”

Andrew blinks. “But you’re still a virgin. Wasn’t that something you wanted to get rid of?”

“I think it’s safe to say I’m not _really_ a virgin anymore,” Steven says with a shaky laugh.

Pride fills Andrew at that. “Yeah…” He trails off thoughtfully. His own cock is hard again, and the sight of Steven splattered in come isn’t helping. Andrew brings a hand to his dick and strokes, and realizes Steven’s watching.

“I want to come inside you,” Andrew says. It’s true; he’s thought about it more than is probably healthy. He just knows Steven would look so good, full of him—his cock, his come.

Steven shifts on the bed; his knees draw together and his hands flutter nervously on his chest. His nipples, Andrew notes, are still red and raw. “I don’t know if I’m up for it.”

“I’ll do all the work,” Andrew says. “You don’t even have to move.”

Slowly, after a hesitation so long Andrew’s heart feels like it might implode, Steven spreads his legs in answer.

Andrew hurries between them. He takes a moment to spread Steven’s cheeks and look at where he’s red and slick and open. He reaches blindly for the lube and murmurs a thanks when Steven slips it into his hand. He works a dollop of lube over his cock at the same time he looks up at Steven’s face.

It’s drawn in lines of exhaustion. He looks tired as he tilts his hips up, gets his hands on his thighs and holds himself open for Andrew.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

Steven gives him a bashful smile. “You’re you,” he says, like it explains everything.

Andrew squeezes the base of his cock to keep from coming at the tender words. He shuffles forward on his knees and finally, _finally_ guides himself into Steven’s waiting, pliant body. The tip of his cock pops in without any trouble, although Steven’s body goes stiff and his expression tight.

“It’s okay,” Andrew assures. “You can take it.”

Steven nods. His lavender hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat. Andrew inches in further and Steven’s mouth drops open. A wavering moan leaves his mouth even as his face scrunches up, in something like pain or discomfort or—

“Too much, Andrew,” Steven says. He pushes at Andrew’s chest to keep him still. “Hang on.”

Despite the request, Andrew sinks in another inch. “I can’t,” he gasps out. “You feel so good.”

Steven whimpers and his bottom lip shakes as he speaks. “Just, hold on,” he says.

“It gets better. It’s just your first time,” and _fuck_ , the reminder that he’s the only person to have been inside Steven this way is too much. Andrew’s hips buck forward again and wrench a gasp from Steven’s throat.

“Andrew, please!”

“I’m almost in,” Andrew tells him. “Just a little more.” He’s not above average in size by any means, but sinking into Steven at such a torturous pace, watching Steven’s face contort with too many emotions to name, makes him feel invincible, unstoppable, and _big_ , he thinks crassly. A groan tumbles out and he thrusts in the last few inches, until his balls slap against Steven’s ass.

Steven’s chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath. “Wait,” he says urgently. “Just hold on.”

“If I move, I’m going to come,” Andrew says, half-moan and half-laugh. “No worries there.”

The look Steven levels him with is unreadable and not entirely pleasant. His eyes fall shut shortly after and his breathing finally evens out. Andrew still waits. The longer he waits, the harder it is to stay still. Steven’s almost too tight around him, despite being wet and sloppy from earlier. Andrew wants to pull out just so he can thrust inside again and relish the sensation of Steven’s body opening for him, accepting him inch by inch.

“Okay,” Steven says quietly. “You can move.”

Andrew swallows his moan as he pulls out, eyes trained on the sight of his cock leaving Steven’s body. He goes until just the tip rests inside and then, despite wanting to watch it slowly, slams his hips forward. Pleasure races through his veins at the feeling of wet, tight heat encasing his dick and blood rushes in his ears so loudly he almost misses Steven’s yelp.

“Steven?”

“It’s fine,” Steven gasps. “Just a lot.” He nods nonsensically, hair flopping about and sticking to his skin. “Do it, Andrew.”

Andrew’s heart thuds happily at the permission. He wraps one hand around Steven’s hip and braces his other arm against the bed by Steven’s head. Wordlessly, Steven’s legs wind around his waist and the slight change in position gives him the perfect angle, the perfect leverage to start thrusting hard and fast.

Andrew loses himself in the feeling and the sounds: it all surrounds him like a blanket, hot and comforting. His cock is squeezed tight and every brutal thrust forward wrings a melodic moan from Steven’s flushed, kiss-bitten mouth.

“Steven,” Andrew says as he looks down. Steven’s eyes are squeezed tight. “Baby,” he tries, the word a little foreign on his tongue. He hasn’t tried pet names with Steven yet. “Baby, look at me.”

Steven opens one eye and meets Andrew’s gaze.

The words start to tumble out of Andrew, ensnared as he is by Steven’s beautiful face, lit up with a blush and shiny with sweat.

“You’re perfect,” Andrew gasps as he thrusts. The bed is creaking underneath them and hitting the wall with a rhythmic _thud thud thud_. “I’ve wanted you for so long, and it’s so much better than I could’ve imagined.” Andrew breaks their locked eyes for a moment to shudder. He almost tips over the edge as he thinks about the past week, all their little stolen moments and how Steven’s moans echo so prettily off conference room walls.

“Yeah,” Steven sighs breathily. His arms find their way around Andrew’s shoulders.

“You let me touch you, I never thought you would,” Andrew admits as he buries his face against Steven’s neck. He never breaks his relentless pace. His voice cracks a little and he smothers it against Steven’s heated skin. “Fuck, Steven, you feel so good.”

“Yeah, yes,” Steven responds, soft gasps. “You too, Andrew. Are you gonna come?”

Andrew closes his eyes as he considers the question; he’s elated to find his answer. “Not yet, but god I want to. I want to fill you up.”

Steven whimpers. He throws one hand over his face and when Andrew pulls it away, Steven’s eyes are shining.

“Don’t you feel good?” Andrew asks. He lets Steven’s hand drop and reaches between their bodies instead. He finds Steven’s half hard cock and works it quick in his grasp.

Steven shouts as Andrew starts to stroke him fast and a little dry. “Ah, ah, ah!” Steven throws his head back against the pillows. “A-Andrew!”

His name falling from Steven’s lips will never get old. Andrew bites lightly on Steven’s tender neck before leaning back to watch Steven’s face. Steven’s biting his bottom lip and tears dribble down his cheek at odd intervals, like he doesn’t quite have it in himself to cry so hard anymore.

“It’s good,” Andrew murmurs. He kisses across Steven’s face, licks the salt from his lips. “You’re so good, Steven.”

Steven hiccups, something caught between a moan and an oversensitive sob. “Andrew,” he whimpers as come meekly splatters across Andrew’s hands. Steven bats at his fingers until Andrew lets go, forced to smear his hand across Steven’s hip. “S’too much,” Steven slurs. He’s tossing his head back and forth like he can’t quite take the pleasure.

Andrew slows in his thrusts and tries to savor the feeling of Steven clenching around his cock. “Fuck, Steven.”

Steven whines. “Too much,” he says again. One of his knees digs into Andrew’s side; he reaches down and rubs at Steven’s thigh, soothing the aching muscle.

“What if I turned you over? Won’t be such a strain on your legs.”

Steven sighs. “Okay,” he breathes. “Yeah, okay.”

Andrew reluctantly pulls out and takes a moment to watch Steven’s hole tighten around nothing. He gets his hands on Steven’s slick hips and carefully turns him over. “Hand me a pillow?”

Steven tosses one back in a lazy throw and winces as Andrew fits it under his hips. It angles his ass upwards just slight enough that it’s easy for Andrew to sink back inside. He holds Steven’s bony hips as he slides home, admires the lines of Steven’s back.

“Fuck,” he moans again. Steven’s head is buried in the pillows. “Steven.”

His head turns slightly, just enough so Andrew can see one pink cheek and a deep brown eye. “C’mon, Andrew,” he says. He sounds tired. He clenches around Andrew again and Andrew’s hips jump forward once more, pushing as deep into Steven as he can go.

Andrew reaches out a shaking hand and presses it against the middle of Steven’s back. He grips his hip hard enough to bruise, pulls out, then thrusts forward. This angle is better, lets Andrew get deeper, move faster. His balls slap against Steven’s with every thrust and each little moan coming from him is addictive, goes straight to Andrew’s head.

It’s all a cacophony of Steven’s whimpering moans and Andrews own throaty grunts, the bed slapping against the wall and the creaking under their weight, skin on skin and slick and wet and _perfect_. Andrew watches his cock split Steven open again and again and follows the lines of his pert ass, the muscles in his back, up to where Steven’s eyes are shut tight and his mouth hangs open.

“Gonna come, Steven,” Andrew chokes out. His orgasm is finally building too fast for him to stop it. It’s just too much, so much more than he ever thought he’d have. Steven’s body feels like silk around him and every noise is like the perfect note. Andrew slides his hand to the bed and presses his chest to Steven’s back. He’s barely pulling out anymore and instead just ruts into Steven’s body, hard and fast and desperate.

“Do it,” Steven rasps. His eyes are still shut tight but his words are soft, alluring. “Please, Andrew, please do it.” His breathing hitches, and the little wet sob that escapes is what tips Andrew over the edge. It’s such a beautiful, delicate noise; he just can’t help himself.

Andrew presses his face against Steven’s shoulder as he pushes deep into him one last time before spilling his load. He groans and lets his teeth graze Steven’s skin as his hips jerk with each pulse of his cock, each spurt of come pushed inside Steven.

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ , god, _Steven_ ,” Andrew chants as his orgasm races through him. His hips move a final, few times, short and jerky thrusts that do nothing more than give him last minute shocks of pleasure and force his come deeper.

Finally, when he’s boneless and sated, Andrew relaxes and melts against Steven. He kisses Steven’s shoulder, his neck, the spot behind his ear.

“You were so good,” Andrew murmurs.

Steven hums. Andrew keeps peppering kisses across his skin until Steven squirms with a delicate laugh. “That tickles, stop.”

Andrew grins and presses a last kiss to the top knob of Steven’s spine. “We should get cleaned up. Can you move?” As he speaks, he sits up with some trouble himself, and lets his softening cock slip from Steven’s red, slick hole. If he could, he’d spread Steven open again and just admire the sight; he knows better, though. Steven probably wants to sleep.

Steven nods and rises onto his hands and knees; the motion gives Andrew the shot he wanted anyway: his come leaking out of Steven and dripping down his thigh. Andrew bites back a groan and clambers off the bed, extending a hand to Steven. Once they’re both standing, they link fingers and walk to the bathroom just outside the bedroom.

Andrew starts the water while Steven digs out towels from under the sink. Andrew knows Steven only knows where they are because he’s stayed the night before, times when he didn’t want a motel or to inconvenience someone else. But the sight still fills him with joy: that Steven might one day just be so comfortable in his home, he’ll know where everything is and—

“Andrew?” Steven’s already stepped around him to get under the spray.

“Just thinking,” he says before climbing in too.

**—**

Andrew wakes up to the sound of Steven dressing. “Where,” he starts, yawns. “Where’re you going?” He gets out around the sleep still clogging his throat.

Steven stops in the middle of buttoning his jeans. “My flight leaves in a couple hours, I want to get to the airport with plenty of time.”

“I’ll drive you,” Andrew says. He sits up and gets as far as kicking off the covers before he realizes Steven is shaking his head.

“No, that’s okay. I already called an uber.”

“You were just going to leave without saying goodbye?”

Steven’s eyes widen. “No! No, it wasn’t that. It’s just, we had a late night. And you were sleeping pretty heavy. And I’ll be back in a week and a half, so…” Steven trails off clutching his jacket to his chest.

Andrew can’t really argue with that logic. As much as he loves Steven—and god, he loves this man so much—he doesn’t really want to get dressed and deal with traffic immediately after waking up. “Okay,” he says, and watches Steven’s shoulders drop in relief.

“I’ll text you when I get to the airport.”

Andrew nods. He watches Steven turn and walk away, but clears his throat before Steven can reach the bedroom door. Steven stops and looks over his shoulder.

“A kiss?” Andrew asks. “Before you go?”

Steven blinks like he doesn’t understand what Andrew said. It takes a moment, Andrew’s sure Steven’s brain isn’t totally online yet either, but Steven eventually pads back over to him. He bends slightly and gives Andrew a gentle kiss. It’s soft, tastes like the toothpaste Steven used and, unfortunately, like the morning breath Andrew’s sporting.

Steven wrinkles his nose as he pulls back. “Gross,” he says.

Andrew grins. “One more,” he says. Steven rolls his eyes and kisses the corner of Andrew’s mouth. “Sure I can’t convince you to stay?”

Steven shakes his head. “I gotta go, Andrew. I’ll text you when I get to the airport.”

After a brief hesitation, he kisses Andrew again, softer than before, and between one blink and the next, he’s gone. The front door slams shut behind him and Andrew falls back onto his bed. He’s half covered by the sheets but too lazy to get back under the covers.

His eyes drift shut as his thoughts return to the night before. A giddy grin crosses his face and he reaches for his phone, sitting on the bedside table.

**to [steven]  
** _last night was great. Love you._

Steven doesn’t answer right away, but Andrew isn’t bothered. He’s probably thinking about last night, too; Andrew wishes he would’ve stayed longer, either for a repeat or maybe just for coffee and scrambled eggs. But there will be time for that, in the future. Next time Steven comes to town, Andrew will suggest Steven just stay with him, it’ll save on costs and time.

Andrew’s grin widens. They’ve got plenty of time, now.

Steven is special, and Andrew can finally show him how much.


End file.
